Be the Silence
by StAnDiNgContrapposto
Summary: The Doctor's double and Rose must pick up where they left off, but when a sudden illness strikes, their own mortality comes into harsh light. Set directly where Journey's End left off at Bad Wolf Bay. Rose/10
1. Chapter 1

This is my first ever doctor who fic! I'm pretty nervous about posting because I'm very new to it, I only started watching it about a month ago and I became obsessed frighteningly fast. Let me know if there are any inaccuracies (since I AM new to this).

I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who of course.

Chapter One

The TARDIS was gone. The wet sand of Bad Wolf Bay held a shallow print, the only evidence of its presence. Rose drew in a deep shuddering breath as she struggled to take in what had happened. The Doctor had left her. Again.

"I'm here."

The voice pulled her from her thoughts. It was the only voice that hit a chord of recognition somewhere deep inside her with cosmic sized force. She gasped as she felt long arms encircle her. He held her firmly to his chest.

"It's me." His voice reverberated in his chest as though layered in harmony with the beat of his single heart. She could not help the hot tears that spilled over her cheeks, smudging her residual mascara. Pulling back she looked into his face.

"It's really you? The Doctor?"

He smiled and wiped the black smudges from under her eyes with both thumbs. "It's me." He stroked her hair back with one hand and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Don't you see how wonderful this is?" His grin was large and infectious. Rose felt the corners of her mouth twitch, but the tears continued.

"We have now, what we never could have had before." He continued, stroking the side of her face, "One life: together. When I was fully Timelord, you would eventually grow too old to carry on your life with me. You could never have a normal human life…well… that's obvious. Now… we can have a _fantastic_ life together. If you'll have me, of course."

"'course I'll have you. But—" He pressed his lips to hers with a sudden urgency, wrapping his arms around her as though trying to consume her body. She pulled back with a gasp. "You cut me off!"

"I've been wanting to do that for _so long_. Perfect way to silence you!"

"Oi, you can talk, and I mean that, you _can talk_, and more so than me any day. So you really are the Doctor then?"

"Yes. This way I can spend my life with you, while my other self zooms around space and time righting the wrongs, saving the universe, and being fabulous." More serious, he added, "You've always known it had to be like this."

Rose nodded slowly. The universe needs the Doctor, it is his natural position. She is human, her place is on earth. She would not always be able to travel with in the TARDIS. The sun broke through the clouds and she stared up at his face, dark against the backlight, and realized truly, what she had. She had the future she had always wanted in front of her eyes. It was the way it had to be, and could only be. She smiled and nodded.

"You can't exactly spend your life on earth with the name 'Doctor' though, can you? You'll need a proper name."

"John Smith, I suppose." He crinkled his name in resentment. "A normal name."

"Not very creative, is it?"

"Suppose not, but it'll do. I'll still be the Doctor to you." He groaned as his hand suddenly went to his coat pockets. "No psychic paper, and no sonic screwdriver! Oh this is mad. I never go anywhere without them! Suppose my other self needs them more though."

"I'll get you a special light up pen." Rose grinned as she looped her arms around his neck. Her grin faltered. "God, you look tired. When was the last time you slept?"

"Not sure…couple months maybe?" He coughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Is that blood? _Doctor_ _what's wrong_?"

Suddenly his knees buckled and he collapsed forward onto the wet sand.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for the reviews!

Previously:_ "God, you look tired. When was the last time you slept?"_

"_Not sure…couple months maybe?" He coughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand._

"_Is that blood? __Doctor__what's wrong__?"_

_Suddenly his knees buckled and he collapsed forward onto the wet sand._

A/N: There may be some inaccuracies in this chapter in regard to medication. I don't know a lot about medical problems so if you could bare with me and suspend your disbelief, that would be great!

Just a quick warning, there are a few rather graphic moments in this chapter, including a medicinal overdose.

* * *

Chapter Two

"Doctor, what is it, what happened?" Rose knelt beside him, horrified, both arms around his body, unsure of what to do.

"What's wrong with him?" Jackie jogged over to them.

The Doctor was on his knees, forearms pressed into the sand. "I'm ok." He gasped and struggled to his feet.

Rose firmly held his arms with both hands. "You look like your gonna collapse

again!"

He shook his head, smiling. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Jackie took his arm. "Thanks to the other Doctor… or you—Blimey this is confusing—we're stranded on this beach! Pete won't be here for a while. "

Rose put his arm over her shoulder and peered into his face as they began walking up the beach. "You're all pasty. You don't look well."

"Nonsense. I'll be fine."

He buckled and retched dryly. Gasping, he trembled as he wiped pink, blood-tainted saliva from his mouth. "It's my body…part human, part Timelord."

Rose clutched his arm for fear he would fall again, listening intently and doing her best to wipe his sweating brow.

He spoke exceptionally fast. "Donna and I are unique. She is not used to having all that information in her head at every given moment, experiencing all the horrors and joys of the universe. It will effect her differently. Me? Just the opposite." He groaned and doubled over.

"But—what does that mean?" Rose said anxiously.

"My Timelord genetic makeup is at war with my human body."

"That…that sounds serious." Jackie whispered unnecessarily, glancing at her daughter.

Rose placed her palms on either side of his face, meeting his eyes directly. "You're cold." His mouth was parted with the effort of breathing and his eyes were dull and unfocused. He leaned forward slowly and, with a groan, fell onto Rose, his weight causing her to sink down to the sand.

"I'm fine. I'll get through this. I'm fine…" He trailed off breathlessly.

Pushing the hair from his brow—cold and sweaty—she leaned forward. "Doctor… what can I do?" Hot tears streamed and were lost in his dark hair.

When there was no response, she gently removed herself from underneath him, laying him on his back. A pang of panic ripped through her as she remembered him in pain, lying in the street, cut down by a Dalek.

His eyes were not in pain this time, they were closed. She pressed an ear to his chest. This heart, only hours old, was silent.

Rose froze, head still pressed to his chest. Her body seemed to grow numb, starting with her heart and flaring out, making it impossible for her to move. If her mind were to break from the numbness, she would surely collapse into madness.

Suddenly, his heart beat furiously, far faster than a human's was capable of. His body grew hot and began to tremble, but his eyes remained closed.

Jackie closed her cell phone. "Right, help is on the way."

Rose only vaguely heard her mother, still frozen in place, listening to his heart as it rampaged in his body.

* * *

Rose clutched the strong coffee and leaned up against the closed door that led to the Doctor's room. When Pete had arrived hours later to pick them up, the Doctor's heart was still irregular. She had stayed by his bedside all night, listening to his heart. It had slowed to a stop several times in the night and each time it did, Rose had reached for the phone to dial the emergency number. Before she had placed the call, his heart would race to catch up with itself.

She was hesitant to call an ambulance. The Doctor had said this was a side effect from the meta-crisis. Would a hospital even know how to treat him if she could not tell them the whole story?

Suddenly she heard a rustle from inside the room, followed by a scream of pain. She dropped the half full coffee mug in the carpeted hall and fumbled with the door handle.

The door swung open and bounced back off the wall. The Doctor was on his side, clutching at his chest, his face contorted in pain.

Jackie stood at the door in pink slippers.

"Mum?" Her tear stained face looked back up at her from her kneeling position at his side.

"Come 'ere a second, Rose."

She obeyed and Jackie opened her hand to reveal two capsules. "Remember when I broke my leg? I didn't finish the prescription.

"Vicodin." Rose stared at the pills. "Do you think its safe?"

"Rose, look at him, he needs this." Jackie put the container on the bedside table.

"Doctor?" Rose shook his shoulder gently but her only response was another gasp of pain.

"He's delirious. We'll give him two, hold him down."

"Doctor, we're going to give you something for the pain. It's a normal human pain reliever, you'll feel better." The Doctor showed no sign that he had heard her.

Rose rolled him gently onto his back and with Jackie's help, hauled him into a sitting position. She held his head back and Jackie dropped the pills into his mouth. He swallowed both capsules obediently and they lowered him gently back onto the bed.

* * *

The window was cracked open and the midday sun shone into the room when he awoke. He frowned in confusion and lifted himself up, swinging his long legs over the bed. He grimaced and put a hand to his chest. The stabbing pain vaguely reminded him of what had happened. They were at Bad Wolf Bay, his hearts had been bothering him, he had been nauseous, and the next thing he knew, he was in this room. He was with Rose, this means he must be at Pete's estate.

His vision swam and he felt lightheaded, but he noticed clothing laid out for him on a nearby chair along with a towel. He could use a shower. He tried to stand up but the pain in his chest caused him to sit back onto the bed.

His eyes found a prescription container on the bedside table. He automatically closed his eyes and attempted to scan his body for any evidence of medication, wondering if they had already dosed him. He nodded slowly to himself, he could find no traces of the drug in his system. He read the label curiously. _"…for relief of severe pain."_. His chest gave another stab of pain causing him to double over, with his head between his knees. With shaking hands he opened the container with difficulty. He was not human; he would need far more than the human dosage to even remotely effect a Timelord. He spilled a handful of the drug into his palm and poured them into his mouth. He grimaced at the bitter taste.

Cautiously, he stood, yelping as his feet touched the cold floor. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the towel and clothing in his arms, deciding to take an adventure to find the shower. He felt out of breath suddenly. Walking from the bed to this chair seemed to have tired him enormously.

He walked to the door and wondered why the room was pitching and heaving. He took a side step and leaned against the wall, deciding to wait while the room rocked. He wondered if the house did this regularly. When the rocking did not cease, he took a hesitant step closer to the door. He lost his balance on one foot and fell into the table. Cursing, he charged determinedly for the door and opened it with difficulty. Would this earthquake never end?

He stepped out into the carpeted hall and cursed again as his foot sank into a wet spot. He walked down the hall, swaying from one wall to the other. His chest felt tight. He took a deep breath with difficulty. The shower? There it was.

Locating the bathroom, he pushed the door closed and locked it. If the rocking of this house was not planning to stop anytime soon, he would not be denied his shower. Turning the water on, he undressed with difficulty, wondering hazily where his TARDIS was. He stepped into the tub. They really need to get the water checked, it is not supposed to be red. He chuckled slightly, how odd—red water, maybe his hair would look ginger after this shower. The room pitched again, and his foot slipped on the wet porcelain.

Rose woke with a start and found herself fully clothed on a bed. The sound of a door slamming resonated from the hall and she could hear the Doctor's voice muttering unintelligibly. She sprinted to the door and thrust it opened.

A trail of bloody footprints led from the room where he was supposed to be sleeping, to the bathroom. Running to the bathroom door, she found it locked. She could hear water running. She turned the door knob furiously and pounded on the door. "Doctor?" She shouted, slamming her weight against the door, and achieving no result. "Doctor!" Her voice rang through the hall. There was no answer from the bathroom.

A/N: Reviews would be wonderful, it motivates me to keep up the story!

Thanks again for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!!!

I am so sorry that this has taken so long! I finally finished my third year at college though, finals were rough, but now that they are over and done with, I should have more time to write!

By the way, it may be obvious that I love to beat the Doctor up—can't deny it; it's just too obvious—so just bear with me! (The beatings will all hopefully be beneficial to the plot and not deviate into obscurity, radioactive wallabies, criminal sconces, or anything else that may threaten to escape the dark recesses of my mind)

I HAVE been thinking about this story a lot throughout the long weeks its been since last I updated, and I finally have a direction for this!

* * *

Previously: _"Doctor?" Rose shouted, slamming her weight against the door, and achieving no result. "Doctor!" Her voice rang through the hall. There was no answer from the bathroom._

Chapter 3

There was a sound of heavy footsteps and Pete charged up the hall. "Let me," He said, pushing Rose away. "It's a pretty old house… should be able to just…" He rammed into the door repeatedly. It crashed open, sending splinters in all directions. Steam billowed from the room. Peering through the steam with trepidation, Rose froze as she recognized her doctor.

He lay beneath the shower, his head resting against the edge of the bathtub, one arm on the ledge. She ran to him and vaulted into the tub. His skin was red and blotchy from the hot water that poured down on him, dripping from his lashes and his sodden hair.

"Doctor, wake up!" She turned the water from hot to cold. She took his face in both hands and lifted his head. His face was too pale. Rose noticed with a start that his lips were blue. "Doctor!"

He opened his eyes slowly and stared blearily up at her. "Rose…" His voice was slurred. The water had caused the shallow cut in his side to bleed excessively. "I think I hurt myself on the table. Fell into it pretty hard. Not feeling well. Stand back." He pushed a weak arm in her direction. "I have to regenerate, I'm sorry." He tried to get up, but he slipped and fell back against the tub. "I need to stand,"

"You can't regenerate, Doctor. You're human. Let's get you out of here," She switched the water off swiftly and hooked her elbows under his arms. She tried to heave him up but failed, cursing her weak arms.

"Human?" His voice was calm and curious. "How did that happen?" He drew in a long wheezing breath. "Cant… breath."

"We need to get him out." Pete threw a towel in her direction, and Rose wrapped it around his trembling body, doing her best to tuck it underneath him.

Her tears fell onto him as she grazed her shaking hands over his face, unsure of what to do. "Your cut is very shallow Doctor, it's not a big deal, you'll be fine, it just bled a lot."

"I—if I'm human… Rose, I took too many."

She froze as understanding dawned. "The vicodin."

"We need an ambulance." Pete looked imploringly at Rose.

"He's not completely human… if they find out…what if they dissect him… like some sort of… _animal_?" Rose glanced at the Doctor. His eyes were closing.

"Rose, I think that is a risk we need to take!" He shouted, as he looked down at the man. He slapped his cheek repeatedly, then pushed a hand under his jaw, searching for a pulse.

Rose ran hard to the bedroom across the hall for her cell phone.

It had passed in a blur. She had sat in the ambulance and watched in horrified silence while the defibrillator was pressed to his chest. His body had arched into it and the technicians had repeated the process.

Her parents had met her at the hospital.

Her eyes had glazed over as the nurse explained to her what was happening.

He lay in the hospital bed, looking the worst for his first day as a human. She leaned onto the bed from where she was seated beside him and stroked her fingertips idly across his brow.

His eyes flickered open. "Why are you crying?" His voice was hoarse and he groaned, rubbing his chest.

Rose started at the sound of his sickly voice, so unlike him. "I almost lost you again today, and it's my _fault_. I left the container on the bedside table."

"Don't be daft, I took the pills myself," He frowned. "…feel like my chest is being ripped apart."

Rose flinched at the analogy. "Your heart stopped…"

"Ah. That's what happens when you don't have a back up heart." He reached for her hand. The heart monitor that was pinched to his finger made it difficult.

"They pumped your stomach."

"That explains my throat." He rubbed her arm. "I'm fine, really."

The tears would not stop and Rose wondered if they ever would. She stared at her hands, unable to meet his eyes. "They need to keep you here for a little while. Just to be sure it's gone. They've been asking questions...about your parents, I just told them I don't know. They asked why you took so many pills…I told them it was an accident, but I don't think they believed me, and why would they?"

The Doctor nodded. "Rose…look at me."

She obeyed and he put her hand to his chapped lips. "It's strange." He said, as examined her hand, running his finger over her knuckles. "Humans are so needy. Timelords don't nearly need as much physical contact." He kissed each fingertip.

"What happened earlier, with your heart, is that over?"

"Seems to be." He said nonchalantly.

"But… what happened?"

"It's very simple really. One human heart was forced to take on the job of keeping a part human, part Timelord alive. Two hearts distribute the job easier than one. My one poor heart is getting used to this just like my mind."

She was staring at the wall across the bed, only half listening. She could not help but imagine what she would do if he had died. How could she get on with the life she supposedly had after losing the man she loved three times… four times? Her heart could not take the pain. What if something were to happen to _her_? Who would take care of him? She supposed her mum and dad would look after him until he got a grasp of what it is to be human.

"Rose." She looked back at him. "I _need_ you."

She shuddered and realized how cold she must appear to him. "Sorry." She laughed suddenly when her eyes locked on his face. "You're healthy." He nodded, grinning goofily at the change in her mood.

Then suddenly, she was kissing his nose, his cheeks, his eyebrows, and his chin. The Doctor laughed weakly and cringed, his eyes closed throughout the onslaught. She pulled away, one hand holding the side of his face, and very gently kissed his lips.

"I love you." He stated, and pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. He pulled back and smoothed his fingers over her eyebrows. "You saved my life…you always do. I'd be dead, and this time I mean, genuinely, bonafide, dead."

Feeling bold, she pressed her lips to his neck, and drew her tongue slowly up, and scraped her teeth across his earlobe. "I'll make sure you stay this way, especially for what I want to do to you."

"_Rose Tyler_!" She pulled back, blushing furiously. He gaped at her. "Whenever did you get this forward?" His voice grew deeper and he grinned as he squinted at her. "I like it."

"Mr. Smith needs his rest."

Rose drew back to find an older woman in blue scrubs, looking at her pointedly. "Yes… of course." She hesitated, then grabbed her jacket and kissed his forehead. "Love you." With that, she hurried out to join her parents in the waiting room.

* * *

Dr. Samuel Haxall, frowned as he gazed at the blood sample he had taken from Mr. John Smith. It was impossible. Type A Positive was understandable. What confused Dr. Haxall was the other 50 percent portion that was unclassifiable, containing antibodies he had never seen in his long life in the medical profession.

Understanding dawned and he glanced through the open blinds and into John Smith's room. The man on the bed gazed benignly around the room.

Dr. Haxall glanced at the waiting room. It was getting late; Smith's friends and girlfriend were getting ready to leave.

He entered the patient's room and John Smith looked up, politely curious.

He peered down the hall, then shut the door and closed the blinds.

* * *

A/N Please review! Honestly, I just don't have the motivation to continue the story without them, you guys are fantastic!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again for the reviews! I think you guys are my favorite group on this site, you're all so nice!

Chapter Four

Doctor Samuel Haxall was an animal lover. At least, that is what he called himself. Frequently he stopped to tap the glass of his office fish tank, enjoying watching the beautiful creatures scatter at the harsh reverberations he caused.

As he entered the room in which John Smith recovered, he tapped the patient's chart absently with the end of his pen.

"Mr. Smith, how are you?" He closed the blinds. Glancing at the bed, he did not miss Smith's expression change to hide his suspicion with eager friendliness.

"Ah, quite well, thanks, apart you know, from the after effects of, well…dying." _His eyes are maddening_, Haxall thought as he surveyed the man who grinned toothily. _In fact, he effectively exudes insanity. _

He looked back down at his chart. "Just a couple of questions for you, if you don't mind."

"Nah, not at all, fire away."

"Your wife wasn't able to fully answer—"

"Not my wife."

"Girlfriend, wasn't able to—"

"Really? Sounds so… teeny-bopper—do you still say teeny-bopper or was that more of a nineties expression? I get so confused from decade to decade. I would have just called her my partner or companion, but that really doesn't do her justice…"  
Haxall cleared his throat and Smith shut his mouth and nodded. _Possibly the most obnoxious creature I've met so far._ "When is your birthday Mr. Smith?"

"I'm not sure I'll be inviting Doctors to my party, understand, hospitals rather give me the creeps and a reminder of that on my birthday would put a damper on things, don't you think?"

Haxall took a deep breath and tapped his pen on the clipboard.

"Right, 1971."

"You are thirty seven?"

"Ye_p_" He popped the 'p' infuriatingly.

"Height?"

"Six… one or two lost count somewhere after my fiftieth—fifteenth birthday."

"Excuse me?"

"Six, one."

"Weight?"

"Personal questions! I'd rather not disclose, thank you very much, I'm quite sensitive!"

Haxall took another deep, steadying breath. He would certainly need a stiff drink after this one. "I'm going to take a blood sample." He drew out a nylon band and wrapped it around Smith's upper arm, drawing it tight, probably a bit tighter than he had intended to.

"Erm, hang on a sec, didn't you already take my blood?"

"We need more." Haxall was done being polite.

"What for?"

"We need to infuse hemoglobin reactives with non receptive antibodies."

"I'm _extremely_ smart you see, but I think even a moderately intelligent ten year old could tell that what you said was complete and utter…gobbledygook."

Haxall cursed under his breath. "Let us just continue with this chart shall we?" Swiftly, he drew a syringe filled with clear liquid and emptied it into Smith's veins before he could withdraw his arm.

"Oh for the love of—a _sedative? Really?_" He groaned and slid and inch from the pillows that propped him up. "I would have cooperated, you really didn't have to…"

"Any allergies that you can think of Mr. Smith?"

"Yes, very important, asprin."

Haxall glanced up at the man briefly, then scribbled the information on the chart. He tightened the band around Smith's arm again, and relocated a vein. The red substance poured into an empty syringe, down a long tube and into a plastic pouch. Smith's eyes began to close. As the dark liquid filled the bag, Haxall watched the clock, absently tapping his pen against his knee.

* * *

The rows of bright lights that filled the ceiling reflected off the luminous sterile white walls causing the room to brighten tenfold.

Doctor Samuel Haxall rubbed his aching head and turned to his colleague. "Norm, I do believe this creature gives me the most terrible headaches."

Norm raised his eyebrows as he readjusted the mask over his mouth. "Are you suggesting low level psychic abilities, or is your mask too tight?"

"Check his restraints, will you?" Haxall ran his hand over the sparse white hairs that crowned his head.

"Secure, oh would you look at that, it's awake."

Haxall finished snapping the latex gloves around his wrists and turned toward the metal table.

"Should I pump it with sedative again, boss?"

"In a minute." Haxall raised a weary hand to the younger man. He dug into the pocket of his lab coat and withdrew a small digital recorder. Gazing with mild curiosity at the naked body strapped to the table, he spoke into the recorder. "Specimen X: John Smith. It is eleven thirty-four pm. It has been determined that the specimen is male, at a height of 6 foot, one inch, and weighing one hundred and sixty pounds. Eye and hair color are brown. It is currently conscious."

He bent forward to shine a small light into the specimen's eyes. "Pupils are dilated, eyes are unfocused. Specimen bears striking resemblance to white/Caucasian male humanoids. Specimen X is currently attempting communication."

"It can't talk, can it?" Norm said as Haxall's finger left the record button. "I mean, its just mimicking us like a chimpanzee, right?"

"Oh he can talk, he can certainly talk." Haxall muttered as he watched the male figure opening and closing its mouth as though in speech. Its eyes were clouded over as though in mild, unfocused confusion. Suddenly the muscles in its arms and chest strained as it attempted to break the bonds that held it at its wrists.

"Oi!" Norm jumped back in surprise. "More sedative?"

"No, not yet."

"I don't trust the thing." He said gazing at the figure warily.

"It was a brief concentration of energy, no more, he's limp."

The figure dropped its head to one side. Haxall put a hand to its mouth and it opened obediently for the cotton swab. Brushing the inside of its cheeks firmly, he withdrew the swab and handed it to Norm. "You see? Docile as a lamb. He's confused and completely unaware. He'll do anything you want."

Norm received the swab and rubbed it into a Petri dish under a microscope.

Haxall stroked the creature's erratic hair fondly and it's eyes began to droop. "There now, that's it, just relax. Poor guy has had a stressful day, he doesn't understand. Reminds me of my dog at the vet's."

"I thought it was human at first, Sam, until you showed me the blood. You think of it more as an animal?"

"What else is there. There are humans, and there are animals. This is not a human, are you boy?" He rubbed its hair. "Obviously an undiscovered life form inferior to humans."

"I… Sir, I believe I agree with you now. The cellular activity is off the charts." He glanced at Haxall, eyes wide. "These cells should not be in motion. These are dividing and positively pulsing with movement."

Haxall nodded and showed the tweezers to Norm. They held a rectangular piece of metal no bigger than a grain of rice. "We'll release it but keep it on a tight tether."

"What is that?"

"You understand that dogs may have a microchip inserted between their shoulder blades that act as a GPS to insure the pet can be tracked at all times if they were to go missing?"

Norm nodded.

"Adapted from that technology, this will be our research tool."

* * *

**Specimen X: John Smith** woke slowly. He was lying curled on his side. A White washed wall and a framed pastel drawing of a cat met his gaze. He raised an arm to rub the sleep from his eyes, and then regretted it as the movement triggered a sharp pain along his spine. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to pass. When he opened his eyes next, it was to Rose's concerned face.

"You've been sleeping for a while."

"How long?" His voice came out as a croak.

Rose looked down at her watch. "About 30 hours since we brought you back from hospital."

He frowned. "That's funny. I don't even remember leaving."

She stroked the side of his face and smiled slightly. "You were pretty out of it, doped up on painkillers."

"I desperately need a shave." He rubbed his sandpaper face with a grimace. He groaned as he sat up and Rose helped him with an arm around his back.

"I'm not sure you should stand—oh, okay," She struggled to keep up with him and help as he stood slowly.

"Let me help you…"

"I'm fine Rose, just a bit sore." He shrugged off her arm, and subsequently cried out with the movement.

"Is it your back?"

"It's fine, I'm fine! Just need a stretch that's all." He stumbled to the door, frowned then turned back to her. "Actually, I do need help. Where's the bathroom?"

Rose leaned against the door frame watching as he shaved. The room smelled of her lavender shampoo. The Doctor stood amidst the lingering steam of the room, a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He turned, looking ridiculous with half a face of shaving cream, and smiled apologetically. "I need to find a more manly scent, I know." He dragged the pink razor up his neck.

When he took the blade from his skin, Rose smirked, "One of my razors?"

"I'll buy you a new one. I'll buy you loads. I'll buy you new shampoo, conditioner, body wash, I'll even buy you one of those marvelous loofa wonders. In fact I'll buy you a new bathroom, one that I haven't shaved my grubby face in and a new house to go with it. I think I'd like to buy you anything you want."

Rose shook her head, smiling. "With what money?"

"I'll make a new sonic screwdriver."

"You can do that?"

"Course I can, I'm brilliant."

"I want a carousel in the garden."

He turned with an eyebrow raised and pointed a foamy razor at her. "That Rose Tyler, is asking a bit much."

She giggled and handed him a towel as he rinsed his face. "So you really are fine then? There won't be anymore, I dunno, relapses?"

The Doctor finished drying his face and shrugged. "Never been anyone like me before, guess we'll find out!" He smiled at her alarmed expression and put his hands on either of her shoulders. "Don't worry, my guess is that I'm in the clear, and my guesses usually end up being right."

He hesitated, then slid his hands up to frame her face. He bent his head slowly and paused, his eyes fixed on her questioningly. Seeing her response in her eyes, he lowered his head to kiss her properly for the first time. He slid his hand down her body and around her waist dropping lower to an area that would have earned him a hearty slap from Jackie. As the kiss deepened, he could feel Rose pressing against him. She sank lower and he found that he was essentially holding her up. Her hand found his waist and her finger tips grazed underneath the edge of the towel. The Doctor shuddered and groaned at the touch, surprised at the reaction of his body. She pressed her fingers to his back and dragged them upwards. The pressure of her fingers on his spine triggered a pain so intense that the Doctor broke the kiss with a gasp.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head and found her lips again. "Nothing." He murmured against her. Her hand found his chest and pushed him away gently. "What happened, did I hurt you?"

"No, no, It's fine, being human, the hormones are just so new, that's all." She seemed satisfied with the answer.

His stomach growled loudly and Rose pulled back with a smile. "Maybe its time to find something to eat?"

* * *

Rose stood at the stove, stirring a large quantity of scrambled eggs. The Doctor knelt on the tiled floor, his head buried in a cupboard. His feet were bare and he was clothed in plaid pajama bottoms, inches too short, and a slightly oversized Led Zepplin T shirt both courtesy unbeknownst of Pete's closet.

"I might wither away to nothing and die if I don't eat right now." He said as he reached an arm deep into the cupboard. He withdrew a box of cereal and stood triumphantly. "Mind?"

"Help yourself," She smirked as he dug into the box. "My mum might be glad to see you clearing out her cupboards."

"Where is the lovely Jackie, anyway?" He said, picking through the cereal box, leaning up against counter and crossing his legs.

"Shopping of course."

He shuddered and fished out a marshmallow from the box. "Do you know Rose, I really do believe that the blue ones taste better than the rest. Not a very common color for food, blue, is it? Not even blueberries are really _blue_. At least on earth. Zorphius nineteen has nothing but blue food. Well, if you can call it food. More like a blue gunge they drink right out of the planet's core…"

Rose dumped the pile of scrambled eggs on a plate and handed him a fork, digging in with her own.

"It must be hard for you. It's hard for me even and I only traveled with you for a short time.

He grew serious as he took a bite of the eggs. "I have no choice. I'm stuck here, but stuck with you? That's not so bad." He smiled at her and she returned it.

"I always wondered, if you would still want to travel with me when I'm old and gray."

"Rose. My body may be human now, but my mind is Timelord still. I don't think of physical beauty the way that humans typically do. Sure my human body certainly does, but my mind loves your soul the way it always has."

She nudged his shoulder playfully. "Never been this cheesy before."

"Oi, give me a break, I've got brand new hormones raging through this body."

"You seem to be adjusting just fine to me."

"I'm a flexible guy. Had to be what with ten body changes, and you humans think puberty is bad!"

* * *

A/N: I'll try to update as soon as I can, but the reviews will certainly encourage me to update faster! Thanks for reading, please let me know how you like it so far, or if you have any suggestions at all!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Wow I am so sorry this took so long guys! I have been incredibly busy though with work AND online creative writing courses that have been taking up all my creative writing energy!

Plus a huge writer's block doesn't help.

I realized I needed to bite the bullet and get this chapter done when I started dreaming it!

Chapter Five

The smooth warm wood was comforting. He pushed the door open and smiled at the sound of the familiar creak. The TARDIS was the most beautiful sight he could imagine. Tears stung his eyes as he leaned down to caress the edge of the console.

He put a hand to his mouth and coughed. _Must be coming down with something. _He thought. Timelords did not get sick. Well, at least not with human sicknesses. He gave another short cough and he was suddenly aware of the single pulse of his one heart. He tasted iron. Drawing his hand away from his mouth, his face grew hot when he saw the droplets of blood. He began to cough more violently until, with one hand on the console to ease his fall, he fell to his knees. His eyes watered. Long ropes of blood and saliva fell sluggishly onto the grating until they fell through with a steaming sizzle of liquid on the hot mechanisms.

_Human_. He thought, fully realizing that he was choking. _Susceptible to any disease… no immunizations… _"Rose?" He choked and tried desperately to draw a breath. The rattle of liquid approaching his lungs with every breath, caused him to claw futilely at his throat with shaking hands. Great globs of his life blood slid horrifically up his throat and past his teeth. He knew he was dying. The hum of the TARDIS was his only comfort as he lay on his side, curling his arms around his legs.

He woke gasping. His naked torso, brow, cheeks, even the hollow of his throat, glistened with a profuse layer of sweat. His pajama pants clung to his legs uncomfortably. His body heaved with his heavy breathing and he automatically put his hands to his throat. His trembling hands frantically felt is face, scalp, and chest, as though convincing himself that he was alive and whole. One hand lingered on his chest, feeling the beat of his single heart. That particular part was not a dream. He swallowed hard at the thought of his unimmunized body, like a newborn baby, completely at mercy to every illness that a human can have. He wondered whether Donna had had immunizations, and whether it had transfered to him.

He looked to his left and found Rose beside him. She lay on her side, her back to him, clothed in an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts. One leg was twisted away from the sheets, the knee nearly touching her chin. The other leg intruded upon his side of the bed. He legs were pale, not matching her tanned arms.

He sat up slowly, knowing that she was a light sleeper and not wanting to disturb her. Her leg shifted, and she straightened her body and turned toward him. "Doctor? Wuss a' mah'ah?" She slurred, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Nothing," he whispered. She turned away back onto her side with a groan. The place where he had lain was damp. He moved to lie close behind her, fitting his body around her shape. He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder. She pulled his arm around her and across her breasts to rest in the hollow of her neck.

* * *

"In a natural habitat, the creature appears human, and interacts with other humans." Norm's voice shook with repressed emotion. All he wanted to do was stamp this anomaly out of existence before it could reproduce and spill its infected genes into the population.

"Doctor Haxall," He said nervously. "How much longer do you want to observe it? If we wait much longer we'll have to take its mate in as well, should they prove genetically compatible. She's human… it could cause a scandal. It could get ugly if word got out that we took the girl for our studies."

Samuel Haxall nodded slowly, his hands folded in front of his mouth. He sat behind his desk and gazed up at the man in front of him. "We'll watch his home for three more days, then we will take him."

"Sir, it has already mated with the girl, should we risk taking her too?"

"There is no reason to believe that they could reproduce. His DNA is not similar enough to be compatible with a human. We will keep watch on the flat after have taken him. Should she prove to be pregnant, we will be forced to take her. The research is invaluable."

* * *

The next morning, and the beginning of their first day in their new, pricey, flat, Rose shouted down the hall. "Doctor?" At the sound of his name, he lowered the newspaper and pocketed his glasses inside the jacket of his brand new pin striped suit. "Have you seen my white jumper?"

He drained the last of his tea and yelled, "It's in the hamper."

"What do you mean it's in the hamper?"

"Its current location is in the _hamper_."

"But that was a color load!" Rose appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, a towel wrapped around her body, her mouth open, and her eyes wide.

The Doctor frowned and pulled his ear. "I suppose there were a couple colored knickers. Why?"

Rose let out an exasperated sigh and turned to storm in the direction of the laundry room shouting, "You weren't kidding when you said you didn't do domestic!"

He blinked in confusion at her behavior and returned to his paper, only to be obstructed by a view of red knickers and a blotchy pink jumper. "You absolute sod."

He cringed as he examined the ruined clothing. "Don't you like pink?" He flinched, expecting a slap.

"It's my mum who likes pink! You should know that by now." She smacked him in the chest with the clothes.

"I'll buy you a new one, I promise," He called desperately after her as she marched back down the hall in pursuit of a new outfit. "Along with that carousel…"

He folded the newspaper with a sigh and got to his feet, stretching his arms. He felt a short spasm of pain in his back and reasoned that he must have pulled a muscle. Deciding that it was probably extremely normal for humans, he shrugged as he followed Rose's lead to the bedroom.

He stopped outside the bedroom door and leaned up against a tower of cardboard boxes. Through the crack in the door, he saw Rose examining herself in the mirror, wearing a blue skirt and a beige cotton bra. It had been only twelve days since the events at Bad Wolf Bay. Doctor had managed to recreate his sonic screwdriver after a number of nights of shameless dumpster diving for scraps. He had found a flat for the two of them in record time after withdrawing massive amounts of money from an ATM (he promised himself it would be the very last time, and would thereafter earn all of his money).

"Were you watching me?"

The Doctor blinked to see Rose standing at the door, now dressed in a white polyester button up. "Um… yes. Do you mind?" He breathed, his expression one of a deer caught in headlights.

Rose smiled, shook her head, and nudged the door fully open. "I know this isn't my usual, but you did say you'd take me out today." She slipped a brown leather heal onto one foot.

Then it happened. It was as though he had fallen asleep. His eyes slipped out of focus and he swayed where he stood.

"Doctor?" Rose frowned at him as she tightened the strap around her ankle.

He shook his head, blinking rapidly, and grinned reassuringly. "I'm fine." He stooped to hand the other shoe to her, but Rose did not miss when his hand brushed the wall for stabilization. "Blimey, you're nearly as tall as me in those heels." He offered her his arm and Rose took it, a slow smile spreading over her face.

"Last day before Torchwood. We need to enjoy it!" Rose grinned as the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Whatever my past discrepancies with them are, at least they are willing to pay for my degree." They walked hand in hand from the flat and out into the busy street. "My only problem," the Doctor continued, "is deciding which PhD to pursue first. At the moment I have thirty five ideas for the one on astrophysics. I'm not sure a dissertation will be enough room for one of them though."

* * *

"Set the trigger to eight, Norm."

Norm frowned at his superior from his place at the computer monitor, he never could get used to taking orders.

"Blood pressure?" Doctor Samuel Haxall barked from his position at the table, clipboard in hand.

"According to the chip, it's far too low, 50 over 35, he should be unconscious."

"And is he?"

"No."

"Good god." He muttered and switched the recorder on. "BP 50 over 35. Specimen X is conscious." He switched the recorder off. "lets see how far it will go, Norm."

* * *

A/N Thanks for reading, please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Alrighty guys, I think in honor of the US premier of Planet of the Dead (which I already saw on the bootleg youtube version the day of its UK showing haha) I oughta update! So here you go, and THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS SO FAR!!!!

Chapter Six

Norm sneered in disgust as he surveyed the paperwork for Specimen X. He sat before a computer which monitored the creature's vitals and whereabouts. The fact that the creature was still alive and intermixed into society posed an itch somewhere inside of him that he ached to relieve. Haxall seemed to love the thing, and the knowledge he could gain from it, but Norm wanted only to eliminate this foreign threat to his normal, ordered, life.

"Norm, how is he holding? Any sign that he's feeling ill?" Haxall strode into the room to squint at the computer.

"No way of knowing, is there? The computer says it's blood pressure is low, but as far as I know, it's still standing. Now if we could only get him back here, we can do all these tests in a controlled environment."

"No, I want him in his natural routine. If we bring him here again, it will cause stress mentally and physically and we will not get accurate readings."

Norm rose from his chair, his eyes glazed, deep in thought. He clenched the paperwork too hard in his fist.

* * *

"I thought you wanted a nice dinner out." After a long day of window shopping and enjoying each other's company, Doctor grinned and leaned his elbows on the table as the waitress placed a large plate of chips in the center of the table, and two pints of Black and Tan.

"Changed my mind," Rose snatched one. "Gorgeous."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow as he swallowed the beer. "Last time you said that, they had been deep fried in Krillitane oil." He examined a chip and licked it delicately. "Nope, just good old fashion lard." He devoured it and selected more.

"Do you still have those super tasting powers?" Rose asked hesitantly.

"Are you wearing lip gloss?"

Rose was taken aback. "Y..yes."

He leaned forward and delivered a lingering kiss. He licked his lips as he pulled back. "Hydrogenated Polyisobutene, Polyethylene Terephthalate, Polybutene, Cinnamon…" He stuck his tongue out and scraped it against his teeth. "Your lips taste better without the synthetics."

"Guess that's a yes then" She giggled and wiped her lips with a napkin.

He paled suddenly and Rose took his hand, her expression concerned. "Oh God, you aren't allergic to any of those are you?"

"Nah, I'm fine." He smiled at her and drained his glass. "Tell you what though, I'm ready for another drink."

* * *

Hours later, and after emptying his bladder as well as the contents of his stomach, the Doctor placed both hands on either side of the sink and leaned toward the mirror, his dark eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror. The dull lighting gave his skin a waxy appearance. He took a deep breath and wondered if the vertigo would ever go. He splashed cold water on his face. It was not alcohol, he had only had two, this was something else, and his fear showed in the dingy reflection.

He held his hand in front of him. It was shaking uncontrollably in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol. He closed his eyes.

"You all right, mate?"

He look up to see a well dressed middle aged man with a salt and pepper goatee and a rather sorry looking wisp of hair combed over to cover a bald spot at the sink beside him.

"Yeah, thanks, one too many I suppose."

The man seemed to buy it as he finished washing his hands. He clapped a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "Strong coffee'll do the trick." He walked from the room, leaving the Doctor still staring at his reflection.

* * *

Rose tapped her fingers as she waited, gazing benignly around the room. She felt her cheeks grow hot as her eyes landed on those of a man across the room. She looked down, then back up briefly. His stare was persistent and she swiftly turned her head to look at the wall. She closed her eyes and whispered to herself. "Don't, just don't, don't come near me."

"Surely you aren't here alone, love?"

She opened her eyes slowly, dreading what she would see. The man before her had taken the Doctor's seat. His black, greying goatee drew her attention to his wide white teeth. "No, I'm not, and it would be a good idea for you to leave before he comes back. Big bloke. Possessive."

He chuckled softly, sending goose bumps up the back of Rose's neck. "Nah, I know you're boyfriend is that skinny fellow puking his guts out in the toilet. What's your name, sweetheart?" His small, piggish brown eyes crinkled as he grinned and Rose felt a stab of anger.

"Get lost." Goosebumps spread up her arms and she wanted nothing more than for the Doctor to set this man to rights.

She sighed in relief as the Doctor made his way over the table. His eyes landed on the man in his seat and a shadow of possessive annoyance crossed his narrowed eyes.

"Hallo. John Smith, and you are?" He held out his hand and the other man grasped it firmly.

"Rich Pelham. I was just leaving." He stood up quickly. The Doctor, inches taller, stared down at him in warning.

"Yes, I'm sure you are." He said, a large, forced grin in place as he watched Rich leave. He turned to Rose. "You okay?" He rubbed her arm with one long fingered hand and took his seat.

"Yeah," She said, her eyes on the place where Rich had disappeared.

* * *

It was reaching 11pm and Rose giggled, still nursing her second drink, and watching the Doctor as he performed his own rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.

"Galileo!" He sang as he finished the last of his fifth in one breath and dropped it to the table, accepting another one. "Galileo…I taught him everything he knew by the way. Poor chap nearly had a nervous breakdown when he saw the TARDIS. We-ell, afraid of the church, you see, and what they would think about his whole time and relative dimension in space theory. I discouraged that but the sun thing? Yea, why not? I figured it was about time someone explained it the way it is!" He reached a hand out and patted Rose on the head. "Humans." He looked at her plate. "You full already? You know on the planet Corschubaraxitoriondoni that is considered a capital offense."

"What, being full?"

The Doctor nodded as he opened his wallet to pay for the meal. "And drunk. Think we're both guilty of one or the other right now."

He rose from his seat and stumbled as his legs buckled. Rose leapt up to help him. "Careful there!"

He groaned. "Oh really? I really am aren't I? Oh yes. No. No way. Yes I am. I'm blizted. I'm completely smashed. Blimey it doesn't take long does it? We-ell, guess this body has no tolerance yet." He slung an arm around Rose's neck and pressed a kiss firmly to her temple as she walked him out of the pub. "Isn't this, wizard?" Stealing a glance at her, he decided that she believed his acting.

"One foot in front of the other."

"Rose, I am not feeling so well. I don't think I've ever felt this ill from alcohol before."

"Oh, it's perfectly normal for us humans. Now you know your limit at least. I'll take care of you, Doctor." Rose said with a small smile as she helped him into their dark flat.

He turned suddenly and faced her, drawing her close to him. His soft, hooded eyes were warm and he stroked her cheek as gently as though she were a porcelain doll. He dropped a kiss to her forehead then pulled back. "That man Rich felt like bad news. Rose, as long as I am alive, I will protect you, I can promise you that."

"I've never doubted it." She said, burying her fingers in his hair. "I feel safe with you. I always have."

His hands held her hips and his lips caught hers hungrily. When they had made their way to the bedroom, Rose pushed him backward onto the bed. He watched with a lopsided grin as she climbed onto his hips and began unbuttoning his shirt, drawing her tongue across the chest hair that she revealed. She worked her way back up his neck and biting his chin, before meeting his lips again. The rich, yeasty flavor of beer met the back of her throat when she breathed in his exhaled breath.

"My judgement is impaired you know." He said, grinning as she unzipped his fly. "Miss Tyler, I do believe you are taking advantage."

"Oh, shut up." She said as she dug a hand into his trousers.

The Doctor put a hand up to stop her. "Oh, I am so sorry Rose, but I am about to ruin the moment." His expression was truly tragic as he slid out from under her and all but fell off the bed and into the bathroom.

Rose slumped on the empty bed with a sigh. The sound of retching made its way from the bathroom and she followed it to find him kneeling on the floor, vomiting into the toilet. She rubbed his back sympathetically. "Happens to the best of us." She murmured. "You'll feel much better when you're done."

He gasped and raised his head. His forehead shone with sweat and his hair stuck out at odd angles. "I don't want to be human anymore. This would never happen to a Timelord."

Rose wet a washcloth and dabbed it on his forehead and the back of his neck. "You'll get used to it." She said quietly. He of course did not have any other choice in that matter. "Feeling better?" He hesitated then nodded. "Let's get you to bed then."

By the time he was asleep, curled around her like a cat seeking warmth, his face buried in her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, Rose was wide awake and worrying. She stroked his hair idly until she finally fell asleep.

* * *

The Doctor woke with the early morning sun in his eyes, a terrible taste in his mouth, and a headache that felt like a vice grip. The bridge of his nose wrinkled in displeasure and he turned onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow. His instinct was to reach inside himself and trigger a deeper healing sleep to stop the pain. When this proved not to be an option, he groaned in frustration.

A hand slid up his naked back soothing him. He glanced to his side, but found that Rose was still asleep, unconsciously stroking him in her sleep. "Could get used to that." He whispered to himself, his eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise. Gently and slowly so as not to wake her, he turned and rose from the bed. Rose spread her limbs out in the bed looking as though she enjoyed having the extra space.

A small, soft yell sounded from outside and he cocked his head, his mouth parted, concentrating on the noise. It happened again, it was as though a child were screaming in the street outside.

He ran to pull on the trousers that lay crumpled on the floor and grabbed the sonic screwdriver from the bedside table, and the keys to the flat. He slammed the front door and ran down the steps two at a time before making it out into the street.

He scanned the street quickly and his eyes rested on a child, a girl, perhaps three. He walked cautiously to her. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her eyes puffy and red. She bawled to the top of her lungs. Her white blond hair was soft, thin, and static.

Kneeling down beside her he put an arm around her tiny shoulders. "Ah sweetheart, where are your mummy and daddy?"

She took a shuddering breath, her small frame shaking, and pointed across the street.

"In that car? Why don't we walk on over, come on, up you get." He held out his hand and she took two of his fingers.

The car door opened as he approached and a man with a black and grey goatee stepped out. Rich held out his arms. "Oh Lydie, Lydie, what a good girl you are."

"Rich?" The Doctor glanced back at the girl. "Your daughter?"

"Step daughter. Oh she does like to wander, thank you so much for getting her back to me. You were a good girl, Lydie."

The Doctor did not notice the man behind him until a damp cloth was clasped to his mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head.

"Good one, Norm." Rich clapped a hand to the other man's shoulder. "Hush Lydie, whats the matter with you?"

"Is he dead?" She said in her small, precise voice.

"No, no, sweetie. He's only sleeping. We're going to take him to a much nicer place where he will be happy." Rich bent to lift the Doctor's shoulders and Norm took his feet.

"Trunk would be best." They pulled the trunk open and stuffed the man inside, folding his long legs up in order to fit him.

Norm's hands were shaking and his knuckles were white as they clutched the steering wheel.

"You alright Norm?" Rich called to the driver from his position in the back with Lydie.

He nodded. "Just glad to have the creature under finger, is all."

"Your wife would be proud."

"Don't talk about my wife." He snapped, then regretted it when Lydie began to cry again. He cringed and rubbed a finger to his temple. He merged onto the motorway.

* * *

Rose woke with a sigh and reached for her lover.

His sonic screwdriver was gone from its place on the bedside table.

A terrible feeling gripped her stomach. Something was wrong.

She lurched up and out of bed.

* * *

A/N: I hope this chapter was OK, I feel like my characterizations are slipping a bit. Please review and let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Everything was black. The Doctor could barely tell if he was awake or not. A large thump caused him to bang against something hard and he jumped in fright. His mind was so befuddled that it took him a while to register the hum of tires and an engine. He vaguely remembered his sonic screwdriver and reached a horrifically weak hand into the pocket of last night's pin striped trousers. He tried to shake his head clear, but it was no use, he was drugged, and he had no way of knowing if he would be able to run at all. He pressed the sonic screwdriver in the direction of the engine and the car jolted to a stop. Men's voices could be heard yelling, and the little girl, Lydie, wailed. The blue glow of the sonic screwdriver allowed him to see the edge of the trunk latch and he pressed it to it. It opened with a pop and he threw all the energy he had into pushing it up and climbing out.

He had been hoping to emerge into a crowded street. Unfortunately, he landed hard on the pavement of a deserted parking garage. He scrambled to his feet—it felt as though he had no bones. A vague tingle let him know that he still had some feeling, but his feet felt clumsy and overly large in the blue unlaced trainers he had pulled on not long ago.

"Now It's getting away."

"Not to worry."

There was a bang and a searing pain hit the back of his shoulder. He fell forward, scraping the side of his face against the pavement. He let out a sigh and blinked his unfocused eyes slowly.

A polished black boot met his line of vision. It moved to push his shoulder, causing a spasm of pain. The boot pushed his body until it had rolled him over onto his back. The Doctor gazed up at the man. Every cell in his body seemed weighted to the ground. He could smell the rubber and filth of the boot as it moved press against his cheek, shifting his gaze back to the car. Rich leaned out the car window. "Should remove the tracking device. Haxall will know."

"I'm one step ahead of you." The man opened what looked like a hunting knife.

* * *

Rose stopped in the center of the street and tore at her hair in frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and thought as hard as she could. Where could he have gone? Was she being paranoid? Maybe they were out of milk and he ran to shop to get it. But why so sudden, and with the sonic screwdriver?

She spun suddenly when she heard someone approach from behind. It was the Doctor.

"Hallo, what are you doing out in the street?"

"Where'd you get those jeans?" Rose looked down at the rather new looking jeans and the plain black shirt he wore.

"Brand new, first time wearing it, what do'ya think?"

"I think the tags out."

He reached down behind him and drew out the tag. "Ah, cheeky bugger, hanging around back there." He drew out the sonic screwdriver and snapped the tag off.

"What were you doing out here? I was looking all over."

"Needed some air, that's all. Fancy a cuppa?" He reached a hand down and abruptly squeezed her buttock. She stared in surprise, hesitated, then followed him inside the flat.

* * *

The Doctor was rolled over and pressed to the pavement by the booted foot. The drugs he had been shot with were so effective it was not necessary for the foot to press so firmly on the back of his neck.

As the knife descended, the Doctor breathed deeply, his eyes wide in fear, waiting for the inevitable and wondering how he would cope.

When the cold blade finally made contact, he tried to scream but failed, only to gurgle softly, his eyes streaming. The knife dug between his shoulder blades until it twisted and popped something metal onto the ground. It landed with a chink in front of his eyes.

"A tracking device." He slurred, barely able to push the necessary breath from his lungs to create sound let alone form the words.

He could feel blood pooling between his shoulder blades, then sliding down the indentation of his spinal column to splay outward across either side of his ribs.

One of the men took his hands, while the other took his feet, and he wondered where they were taking him.

* * *

The toast slices sat in their allotted racks on the table and Rose put the jar of marmalade under the Doctor's nose, which he wrinkled.

"Don't we have any grape jelly?"

Rose did a double take. "Doctor, you've always loved it. That's _your_ personal marmalade. I'm not even allowed to share that jar with you. Don't you remember writing that?"

She pointed to the large amount of writing scrawled hastily on the back in marker. "Authorized 4 personal use by Doctor in accordance w/ Shadw Proclamation & hereby decrees all other users 2 b subject 2 punishmnt by way of however said owner sees fit."

"Ah, yes of course." The Doctor nodded and began to spread the marmalade on his toast. Raising it to his lips, his bit into it, then gagged. "Sorry, sorry, just one of those things you know. I'm just off it now. Like you do with whatever you've eaten right before you get stomach flu. You know, I'm really not hungry after all."

* * *

The Doctor struggled to remain conscious as the men carried him through a dark corridor. "Judging by the cement, the dark, and the goosebumps on my arms, I'd say we are in a cellar? The cellar of a hospital, judging by the parking garage and the white walls. How'd you know it wouldn't be packed with people on a morning such as this? Moreover, why do you need it empty? You're hiding me, but why? Because you want me all to yourself? Nah, I don't think so. I think you two are hiding yourselves. What about that little girl though? Did you leave her all on her own in that car?"

"Norm, Shut it up."

"Mmm. Yes. I've heard that many times about this gob but mind you, I've never heard myself referred to as 'it.' Rather disrespectful I'd say. I may have once been an alien to you but I still had and have all the parts and features necessary for a male of most species really."

The two men's faces were set as though they had coached each other not to respond to the Doctor's verbosity.

The Doctor watched as the dim florescent lights passed above him. He could feel the blood dripping from his back onto the cement. He wondered if Rich would slip in it. The tranquilizer they had shot him with reduced his energy to fight, but he felt he might be have the energy left get to his feet and find the stairs should he get the chance. A fire extinguisher was held under glass nearby.

Finally, they lowered him to the ground. The Doctor let his arms flop where Norm had dropped them hoping to mislead him into thinking he was weaker than he was. Rich dug into his pocket and withdrew a key ring.

"Haxall's."

Norm took the key and fitted it into the door. The Doctor slowly inched his arm to his pocket and withdrew the sonic screwdriver. With one quick press of the button in the direction of the fire extinguisher, the glass shattered and the extinguisher set off, issuing plumes of white nitrogen. The Doctor scrambled to his feet as the men were blinded and confused, and took off gingerly down the hall.

Flying around the corner, he found a door to a stair well. Foam clung to his eyelashes, making it difficult to see clearly. He threw himself at the door and it opened swiftly. On reaching the top of the stair case, he burst out into a hall busy with nurses, doctors, and patients.

He imagined the paper headlines as he ran through the halls, dodging people and looking frantically for a phone. "Foamy looney streaks half naked through London hospital."

He skidded to a halt and slapped his slippery palms on the counter of a receptionist's desk. She stared.

"Yes," he snapped, irritated enough by the foam that covered him entirely. "I'm covered in extinguisher….stuff. More to the point, can I use your phone? Official… fire brigade… business." He wished he had thought to bring his psychic paper, then quickly realized that he probably would have also thought to bring a mobile and in which case, he most likely wouldn't be in this situation.

He snatched the phone from her hands, pressed his sonic screwdriver to it, and made the call.

"Sir, you're bleeding."

"Yes, I'm aware." He forced a smile at the receptionist then returned his attention to the phone pressed to his ear. "Come on, Rose." He said through gritted teeth.

* * *

Rose squirmed under the pressure of what she had thought was the Doctor. He held her pressed to the wall, one hand holding both of her wrists, the other holding the back of her neck, forcing himself upon her. He bent his head to her neck. She could hear and feel him sniffing as though taking in the scent of the blood that coursed within her jugular.

He pressed himself closer to her, and she could feel the threat between his legs as it sought her out.

"Are you a Slitheen?" She gasped, her knees buckling, held up only by his bruising grip. "You killed the Doctor and used his skin."

She vaguely registered that the phone was ringing. "Killed… him?" The words she had uttered echoed in her mind and his hand under her throat tightened. She gasped for air. The shock of the words she had uttered as well as her own restricted air, caused the room to blur and grow dark.

* * *

A/N: I seem to have gotten into the habit of ending chapters with a black out! Ah well, please review and let me know what you think so far. I think I have maybe three or four more chapters left… depends on how involved I get!


	8. Chapter 8

I know this is so unexpected but YES I've actually managed to update this story! I have writer's block with the last chapter of Triangle right now and as one block moves in, another one clears!

Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews and I'm so sorry this took so long!

* * *

Previously:

Th_e Doctor snatched the phone from her hands, pressed his sonic screwdriver to it, and made the call._

_"Sir, you're bleeding."_

_"Yes, I'm aware." He forced a smile at the receptionist then returned his attention to the phone pressed to his ear. "Come on, Rose." He said through gritted teeth._

_

* * *

  
_

"_Are you a Slitheen?" Rose gasped, her knees buckling, held up only by his bruising grip. _

_"You killed the Doctor and used his skin."_

_She vaguely registered that the phone was ringing. "Killed… him?" The words she had uttered echoed in her mind and his hand under her throat tightened. She gasped for air. The shock of the words she had uttered as well as her own restricted air, caused the room to blur and grow dark._

_

* * *

  
_

Chapter Eight

The Doctor scanned the hall he was in and his eyes rested on a door to an office. He froze, staring at the door, then gradually approached it, bringing the phone with him.

"Sir? Sir, where are you—"

The Doctor pushed past people to get to the office door. In bronze, a nameplate signified that it was the office of Samuel Haxall M.D. He opened the door then shut it behind him. Jogging to the desk, he opened the drawers then sighed as understanding set in. Stacks of plastic blood bags filled the drawers.

He picked up the phone and redailed. "Damn." He murmured when the door behind him was flung open.

* * *

Rose slowly came to. She ran a hand through her hair as she tried to remember how she had fallen asleep on the floor.

"Oxygen starvation. Just enough to knock you out."

She sat up at the sound of the Doctor's voice. Memories rushed back. The imposter Doctor was sitting at the table, rifling through stacks of documents.

"You are Rose Tyler." He said casually as he tossed bank statements and old Christmas cards on the floor. "And you are going to tell me everything you know about the man you call John Smith, _and_ the Doctor."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The imposter Doctor jerked suddenly, scattering a stack of papers. "This form I'm in now isn't the Doctor's. This one only has one little heart."

"How do you know about the Doctor?"

His body jerked again and Rose stared. She could have sworn she saw a grey tinge to his hair. "He's the man who defeated the Cybermen and he is the most powerful body I could hope to assume. Imagine if I had that brain and that power. This one is decent. Sure he's clever, but he doesn't have the power the Doctor has."

"What are you?" Rose stood slowly and backed toward the door. "What have you done with my Doctor?"

"Right now, _your_ pathetic human excuse for the Doctor is having his life blood removed. The amount of blood my friends will get from him should be enough for… oh, a couple days probably. That's long enough for me to pick his mind over and find a way to get to the real Doctor."

"He's in a parallel world and there's no way through." Rose said stubbornly. "He's safe."

The man gave a derisive laugh. "He's never safe. I'll find a way to get to him."

* * *

The Doctor stood squarely, the desk between him and the two men: Norm, and Rich.

"What do you want with me? Talk to me!"

"You're not in the position to demand." Said Norm, shutting the door.

"On the contrary, I'd say I'm very much in the position to demand seeing as I could scream at any moment and hospital staff would be inside this room in an instant. I very much doubt this is official NHS business."

"He's wasting blood." Rich whispered to Norm.

"Eh?" The Doctor put a hand to his lower back, feeling the sticky blood that still streamed from the wound in his back. "Ah. To feed your friend the plasmavore."

He glanced down briefly to see the splashes of blood on the floor, committing them to memory so he wouldn't slip. In the second he had glanced down, the shot of the tranquilizer ripped through the room and buried its self in his solar plexus. He looked down at the needle that stuck from his torso and swayed on the spot. "No. No-no-no. Just a little needle." He took a wobbly side step, clutching the phone to him as though it were his first born. His eyes were heavy. Suddenly the floor was looking as inviting as a down comforter.

Craving the floor's stability in the spinning world, he let his knees buckle.

* * *

"You're mad." Rose said, following the imposter Doctor with her eyes as he walked to the bathroom. "You won't be able to cross universes and you will have killed an innocent man."

"Worth a try though, isn't it? He's only been around here for a few months, not a great loss to the world, is he?" He opened the medicine cabinet and began sifting through it. He tossed an empty birth control container into the rubbish bin. "You really should stay up to date, dear. How sweet and tragic would it be if you were left to have his bastard? At least you'd have something of his to remember him by."

Rose clenched her fists, her eyes murderous. "I will never let you hurt him, you hear me? I won't let you touch a hair on his head." The original Doctor had trusted her to look after himself and she promised herself she would protect him.

"Too late sweetie. You're Doctor is bleeding dry as we speak."

"I don't believe you." She couldn't help the doubt of her own words as she spoke them, however, and she could tell he knew by the smile he gave her. His face was an odd mixture of features. The Doctor's nose was now paired with disproportionately large teeth. His hair was also shrinking, thinning, and graying. His eyes were changing color and shape too. The shifts made Rose feel queasy as his skin stretched over a new skull structure.

"Doctor Haxall."

"All I ask is to drop the second part." His voice cracked, jumping from the Doctor's tenor to Haxall's baritone.

The phone rang again. There was a click and a cheery voice began. _Hallo_! _This is the residence of John Smith and Rose Tyler. We're probably far too busy and important to reach your call so if you'd like to leave a message for either the lovely Miss Tyler or myself, we'll call you back! Rose I don't think this is working, I told you I'm rubbish at domestics. –The green light?—Yes that's on. Oh, did I record that? –Yes, two sugars—_

The beep sounded and the sound of heavy breathing came on the line. "Rose?" The voice was strangled and weak. "Help me."

Rose felt her stomach lurch at the words. The Doctor needed her and she had a pretty good idea where he was. Ready to defend her partner with her last breath, she lunged for the door of the bathroom, pulling it open and then slamming it back into his face.

Haxall stumbled but Rose didn't allow herself the time to make sure. She bolted from the flat.

* * *

The Doctor groaned as the phone fell from his face to clatter on the hard floor. He didn't want Rose in danger, and he regretted the call he had made, but his instinct to survive had taken over and Rose was his go-to.

His hip bone was pressed uncomfortably against a hard surface. He rolled onto his back, unwilling to open his eyes again. The light shone through his eyelids. The floor was cold on his bare back.

He was lying on the floor in a room lined with cabinets. White walls and bright lights washed out all color except the brown and red marks that smeared the floor: his blood.

"Just relax." Norm's voice came from above and the Doctor looked down at his left wrist. Clear plastic tubes were attached to the veins. Dark red blood pumped through.

"Can't we just go in through the kidney?" Rich complained. "This is taking so long."

"He'd be dead too fast. The longer we take, the more time for his heart to make more."

"Ah." Rich seemed satisfied with the answer.

The Doctor bent his knees and raised himself up to a sitting position only to fall forward on his hands with dizziness. He looked up to see Norm and Rich standing over him, watching in mild interest. He tried to speak, but only a slurred string of syllables made it past his mouth. His hand slipped in the blood from his back and he didn't try to protect himself as he pitched face down on the floor, his trouser-clad legs splayed out behind. Feeling like a colt learning to stand, he gathered his hands beneath him and pressed himself up. His body was too weak form blood loss and crashed back down to the floor, gasping, his eyes half closed. "I don't want to die." He managed to articulate slowly and precisely. He could feel himself slipping as though on a fraying tether, ready to snap at any moment as the coldness spread slowly through his body.

* * *

A/N Woohoo! Are you guys proud of me for updating this? I know I am! Please review and I'll see how fast I can get the next chapter up


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry it's been so long but if you knew what I've been going through this past month, you'd understand!

Warning: lots of doctor whump ahead.

_Previously:The Doctor's body was too weak from blood loss and crashed back down to the floor, gasping, his eyes half closed. "I don't want to die." He managed to articulate slowly and precisely._

Chapter Nine

Rose fumbled for her mobile as she threw the door to the flat closed and stepped out to the street. She dialed "Pete."

* * *

The Doctor lay on his stomach, moist palms and the side of his pale, sweaty face pressed into the tile floor. His eyes were half closed and dull and his mouth hung open as he panted. He could feel his weak heart racing in his chest, trying to compensate fast enough. He could only watch as the precious fluid was suctioned from his arm, filling unit after unit with his blood. He vaguely thought that in his last moments he should be thinking of Rose, of the life they had had together, of the good times he had experienced in his tenth body, and his brief time as a human. Instead of these thoughts, however, all the Doctor could think about was the hard tile, and the cold chill that gripped his bones.

"Norm, we need more unit bags." Rich stooped into the Doctor's hazy field of vision and plucked the needle from his arm, replacing it hastily with a sticky plaster.

Hope bloomed in the Doctor's stomach and he experimentally mustered the strength to slide his arm closer to him.

"He all right on his own?"

"He's half dead, Rich, what do you think?"

_I am not dying today._ The little voice in the back of the Doctor's head startled him. Images of bananas and marmalade wafted through his brain. _Have I ever tried bananas IN marmalade? No! That means I can't die today. _

It was a good enough distraction. He did dare allow his brain to dwell on the very real fear of the future he might lose. The future that he and Rose had.

The future that includes sex… oh loads more sex, he told himself. Sex every day. Twice a day. More than that. Whenever he fancied it. All the time.

A future that might have babies, and morning breath, and peanut butter jelly sandwiches stuffed in loafers. _No._ He admonished himself. _Don't think of that. Too painful…think about sex. _

What was the human fascination with sex, anyway? He never felt like this as a Time Lord. Well, it had passed his mind a few times but never as constant as it did now. He was a human male now, and sex seemed constantly in his mind. Humans need to pass on their genes, and now the Doctor has been thrown into that game. _Don't think about children never to be born. _ Regardless, there would be sex and the Doctor focused on that as he managed to twitch his fingers and toes, life slowly coming back.

The sound of the door closing drew him from his mind and he looked up to see that he was alone. He froze, realizing that he had in fact raised his head. Slowly, and with enormous effort, he managed to heave himself up onto all fours.

His eyes lit on the table beside him and his face broke into a goofy grin. Half laughing, half sobbing, he launched a hand to the table and gripped it firmly, dragging himself up. With his other hand, he triumphantly snatched up his sonic screwdriver.

Panting with the effort, he fell back down on to his bottom, gazing at the screwdriver as though trying to remember why it was so important.

He knew that Rich and Norm had underestimated his body's knack for clinging to survival—it came from the Time Lord side—and the Doctor was quickly regaining a modicum of energy.

As his brain began to get back in touch with the rest of him, he smiled and closed his hand tighter around the sonic screwdriver. Adjusting the setting and flicking it on for a half second, the lock of the door quietly clicked open.

He raised his free hand to the table and dragged himself to his feet, shaking with the effort. Beads of sweat grazed his forehead and he panted, one hand pressed to his chest as he stared at the door with determination.

He paused to gather his strength, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. He lunged for the door and managed to get to it before falling. Pushing it open slowly, he peered around it. The corridor was deserted. The sickly fluorescent lights bounced off the very white, new looking tile floor and made the windows on the far side look black. The Doctor could just make out his reflection, ghost-like amid the blackness of the night.

There were two stairwells and both were covered by caution tape. No wonder there was no one here. He thought grimly. It's a construction site. He pulled himself carefully around the wall, leaning heavily against it. He tore through the caution tape and opened the door to the stair well. Scaffolding strangled the stairs as though growing like weeds from the linoleum.

* * *

Rose burst into the hospital reception room and couldn't help but pace circles in panic and indecision. She knew he had to be here, but she had no idea which floor or wing he could be in.

Her years of working with Torchwood had leveled her head and allowed her to think rationally in desperate situations. This was different. Those years were spent trying to get back to the man she loved. That figure that is so precious to her was in her grasp for a little while, only to seem to be leaking from her cupped hands like water.

"You all right, ducky?" An eldery woman looked at her in concern but Rose did not care enough to respond.

Her vision was blurring rapidly and she wondered if panic could possibly kill a person.

"Rose!"

She spun on her heel. "Dad—I mean, Pete!"

Pete ran to her and grasped her forearms. "Don't worry, I've got back up, but think, Rose, was there anyone suspicious, anyone you may have seen lately?"

Rose gulped, shaking her head, then her eyes landed on a figure exiting an elevator. "Rich." She whispered.

Pete turned and made eye contact with Rich. Rich paused, looked back at his companion, then sprinted back in to the elevator.

"Oi!" Pete yelled. "Stop!" He ran to the elevator doors just as they were closing and through a foot between them. They bounced back and Pete shoved Rich to the wall, pinning him with his arms.

Rose saw Norm do a runner and hurried after him. She shoved around patients and nurses, determined not to lose Norm's back.

"What's all this now?" Yelled a voice. Rose ignored it.

Norm disappeared behind a stairwell door and Rose followed soon after.

Grateful for all the running that came with the Torchwood job, Rose maintained her pace and could tell that Norm was fading as he climbed the stairs two at a time.

The Doctor heard a commotion at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned over the rail to look down dozens of floors. His head spun from the height combined with his blood loss but he was sure he saw a flash of blond hair.

"Rose?" He called hopefully. The blond head lunged out of view and he could hear the sound of a struggle, then distinctly, Rose's voice: "Where is he?" She yelled. "I promise you, if you've hurt a hair on his head…" Her voice echoed up the stairwell. "I'll kill you. You'll already be locked up but I promise you will be dead if you don't tell me now."

The Doctor's mouth twisted in distaste at her threats but reasoned that her panic was clouding her judgement. "I'm coming Rose, no need for death." He muttered to himself as he took on the stairs. His strength was not quite there yet, however, and his foot slipped on the displaced and unfinished linoleum. He flung a hand out to hold on to something, but he was already falling. His shoulder connected painfully with the scaffolding and with an all mighty groan, the metal began to fall with him. He held his arms around his head in protection as he rolled down the stairs to come to a sickening crash against the wall. The scaffolding continued to collapse.

* * *

"You're coming with us." Pete said, handing Rich off to his Torchwood team. "I want two of you with me." He ordered and jogged in Rose's direction.

The Doctor groaned. Something very sharp was pressing into his leg and his chest was painfully restricted. He opened his eyes but what he saw was just as confusing as what he was feeling. A series of abstract lines met his soft focus vision. Something hard was pressed against his back, his side, and his front, pinning him in place. He blinked and his vision began to clear.

He was lying on his side. Numerous metal supports from the scaffolding surrounded him. One was pressed to his chest restricting his breathing. Another was painfully pushed up against his abdomen, just under his ribcage. A spasm tore through his body and he coughed, bringing up the metallic flavour that had become so familiar to him.

From his point of view on the floor he could only see the top of Rose's head as she crested the stairs.

So much for all the sex they were going to have, he thought ruefully as he watched her ashen face contort in pain at his appearance.

"Help me, Dad, hurry!" Her voice was sonorous as though under water.

She reached through his metallic cage to touch his face. Her touch woke him a bit. "Rose." He managed, very aware of the pole pressed against his belly.

"You're going to be fine, love, just fine. Don't worry. We'll get you out." Tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. Her speech was rushed. "You'll be okay, I love you, You'll be okay."

"Rose." He said calmly, aware that he only physically had enough room to say a few words at a time. The more relaxed he was, the easier it was to talk around his metal captors. "Rose, I love you." He closed his eyes to take the shallow breath he was allowed. "It wasn't what…we had envisioned. After… everything…I go and…die on you."

"No!" Rose hissed angrily. "You're not dying, not today, don't say that."

Pete was hovered around his peripheral vision, assessing the damage. "Sonic screwdriver!" He shouted suddenly, bending down and reaching something near the Doctor's hip. "That's what it's called, isn't it?" He held it up and Rose snatched it quickly.

"Which setting, Doctor?" She half shouted in urgency.

"I'm dying, Rose." His resigned voice was cracked by a cough, bringing up more fluid. "There's only…so much a…human body can take."

"Doctor, listen to me. You tell everyone else not to give up. Now it's your turn and I won't let you be a hypocrite. I won't let you take the easy way out. You're not dying on me. Tell me the setting!" She flinched as she realized how loud her angry shout was. His warm brown, doleful eyes stared at her.

"G53 should…do it."

Rose took a second to spin the dial and set the figures. "You are going to die with me when we're really old and both in nappies and eating mush. You hear me? We're going to watch bad day time T.V. together and eat pudding and buy ridiculous presents for our grandchildren." She pressed the button on the screwdriver. She had to press down hard with both hands before it took effect. Miraculously, the metal seemed to soften before her eyes.

Pete reached forward and pulled at the metal. "That's good, stop Rose." The blue light died. "We need enough support that it won't fall down on him." He managed to bend the pole slightly, releasing pressure from the Doctor's chest.

Rose repeated the process for the one that stuck up and into his belly. This one was what worried her the most. The location of the injury did not bode well for him. Pete had to dig his hand palm between the Doctor and his entrapment to pull it from him, causing him to whimper in pain.

The screwdriver began to grow hot in Rose's hand and suddenly, with a spark, the light died. "No!" Rose banged it against the floor.

"It's all right," Pete said. "We can pull him out now. You lift the board at his leg and I'll pull him out from under it."

Rose took one look at the Doctor's pale face and nodded. He was uncannily relaxed, given his situation, and Rose did not like it. It was as though the fight had left him, and it scared her.

* * *

A/N Ouch. Another cliffhanger. I'm sorry guys, I don't mean to do it, I really don't, but my fingers just start typing horrific whump against my will!


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